mom we literally can't finish the soundtrack of Hamilton
by lmacey
Summary: Unrelated drabbles each inspired by song titles from Hamilton! The music is so great, I just couldn't pass up on this idea! I don't own anything just wish I did Happy reading:)
1. My Shot

My Shot

She was unable to move from the dining room chair she had been sitting in. She was baffled, to say the least. She was at the table when they had all received the news of the death of Vincent Marsh…but this. She was definitely not expecting this. 'Mom some lady is calling from the president's office.' Jason's words replayed in her head. She didn't quite comprehend her son's statement. She never imagined it was The President of The United States Office calling. She simply asked if it was the PTA. But the moment she heard the sirens ring out…The minute she saw the motorcade drive up the gravel pathway, she knew this wasn't a joke.

Her hair was in braids. She had hay on her clothes, and dirt on her boots. She had just been mucking out the stalls half an hour ago. Yesterday she had been at UVA, going on normally, unknowing of what tomorrow would entail. She was a teacher for god's sake, had been for the last ten years.

She had nearly spit out her water, hearing Conrad's request. 'I want you to step in.' He had told her. 'Step into what?' She had asked him, confused. 'Secretary of State.' He explained. She had believed that he was kidding; there was no way his demand was serious.

He had given her reasons. Reasons as to why she was right for the job. He listed off the explanations, saying them as if he truly meant them. But did she? Did she believe in herself? Conrad had told her that she was his first pick for the job, but was talked out of his choice. He told her they could affect real change in the world.

Now she sat dumb folding, unsure if her encounter with The President had really just happened. Hearing the last of the sirens fade away, she headed towards her office, knowing Henry would be there waiting for her. Peering through the glass doors she could see her husband leaning on her desk, nervously tapping his fingers against the wood. He quickly glanced up, hearing the door creak open. Henry moved on his feet, wanting to be closer to her. "Babe?" He questioned. She was staring at the ground, not ready to look at him. She took a deep breath and met his eyes. "He wants me to be his Secretary of State." She breathed out, excited.

His mouth fell agape in surprise. Of all the things she could have said just now, that was not what he was expecting. "Wow." He couldn't manage to say anything else at the moment. "I know." She muttered, still unbelieving of what had just been asked of her. "This would be a big move for our family, Elizabeth." He said a bit sadly, but she didn't pick up on his emotion. "It's huge!" She exclaimed. "This could be my chance. I could really do things." She said, overwhelmed with happiness. She began pacing the room, thinking of everything she wanted to accomplish. He could almost see the physical spark of light behind her eyes. "Lizzie…" He began, drawing her from her reverie. She stopped moving, and looked at him, finally noticing the negative expression on his face. "Think of our family." He commanded. Her mouth opened to say something, but immediately closed. "This isn't just a moment, it's a movement. Aren't you happy with where we are? I mean we just settled down." He fought, but keeping his voice low. "It's been ten years, Henry. Ten years…Don't you think it's time to move on to what's next?" She asked him.

She took a step closer to him. "I could affect real change in the world. I can do big things." She repeated Conrad's words. "You'll change our family." He argued. She shook her head. "I wouldn't have even considered this job if I didn't think we could handle this." She defended.

"Henry I'm hungry for this." She admitted, moving her hands about. His eyes met hers again. "I can make the world a better place. A better place for our children." She pleaded. He nodded his head. "This is my shot." She told him. "Then take it Elizabeth. You can't throw it away. Take it." He encouraged her, smiling at his wife.


	2. The Story of Tonight

Story of tonight

She was exhausted, to say the least. She and her staff had been up for the past four days trying to avert World War III. It was draining. She was sleep deprived, all hopped up on coffee, and honestly felt a little sick. Her heels were killing her, and her body was aching. All she wanted to do was go home, fall into bed, and sleep for days, but she couldn't disobey the President's orders.

She walked through the halls of the west wing on autopilot. "He called you too?" She nearly gasped when The President's chief of staff seemed to appear out of thin air. "God, Russel." She had a hand to her chest, feeling the rapid beating of her heart. "Do you know what this is about?" She asked the man. "Not a clue." He answered. The pair continued walking side by side down the long hallways until they reached The Oval Office.

Being as it was almost two in the morning, The President's assistant had gone home hours ago, so they simply walked into the room. Conrad stood behind his desk, peering out the window into the dark sky. "Sir." Russel spoke up, alerting him to their presence. He turned around quickly, and mustered a small smile. The room was filled with a silence. Russel and Elizabeth stood there a bit awkwardly, waiting for the leader of the free world to say something, anything, but he said nothing. "Excuse me sir, but is there something you needed?" Lizzie questioned. "Oh god no." The President spit out quickly as he stepped out from behind his desk. Elizabeth sighed, relieved that her mind could now officially turn off for the night.

Conrad motioned to the couches, and said, "Please sit, you both look…burnt out." He had to search for a nicer word then telling them they looked like complete crap. They followed The President's command, and each claimed a spot on opposite sofas. Bess literally fell into the soft cushions; her muscles thanking her for the much needed break.

"I wanted to thank you both for all your work these past few days." He started. Conrad poured a glass of whiskey, knowing Russel would easily accept the drink. "I know it's been difficult." He added. He poured the amber colored liquid into a cup for himself. "Bess?" He questioned, lifting up the bottle of alcohol. "I don't drive anymore." She joked. He turned back to the mini bar once again, before moving across the room, distributing the glasses, and taking a seat in a chair.

"Bess you really did some great work this week." He announced. "Yes well I was just the mediator." She played down the importance of the role she played in the whole process of the summit. "You did a lot more than that." Conrad opposed, taking a sip of his drink. "Let's just say The Chinese and The Japanese both really wanted the Henkashu Islands." Russel commented.

"Yes well, when there's natural gas deposits…" Conrad trailed off. After downing her pick-me-up, Elizabeth bluntly said, "It didn't help that China sent a reconnaissance plane over the islands, which caused Japan to scramble an F-15. They buzzed each other and The Japanese pilot had to ditch."

"Yes but a treaty is now signed, and I wanted to celebrate the accomplishment." Conrad declared. "You did one hell of a job, Bess. You should be proud. This one's for the books." He praised her again. "Thank you Mr. President. It was a pleasure." She replied. He batted a hand at her. "Drop the pleasantries; it's after midnight." He teased.

It was about an hour later, and she was more than a few drinks in. She was one to hold her alcohol fairly well, but she was beginning to feel the buzz. Her heels had been kicked off. She had her legs stretched out on the sofa, and her head was resting back on a cushion. The trio had spent the last hour talking. Talking about their families, golf, the weather. Anything but work. Her mind was mush. She was a bit buzzed, and wasn't thinking clearly. Her thoughts were freely flowing from her mouth. "Do you ever think about how this…" She motioned around the room. "This will be the first line of our obituary?" She blurted out. Russel's forehead creased at how odd her question was. "Is that a bad thing?" Conrad pondered. "I don't know anymore." She responded, unsure of herself. "I think President of The United States is damn impressive and a title most want, and Bess don't act like POTUS won't be your headline either." He told her, honestly. She laughed dryly, sitting up on the couch. She held her hands up in defense. "Whoa there. Don't get ahead of yourself." She retorted.

"What, like it's some big secret?" Russel teased. Lizzie just shook her head at the two men, and laid back again. "I'm just saying, we're working to change the world. Leave our kids a safer place to live in, but it's all a huge sacrifice." She admitted. "It is." Conrad muttered. "Wouldn't you rather have loving mother or father as the words the world remember you by?" She wondered out loud.

"Does it really matter how people perceive the words on your memorial? The one's who really knew you, who loved you, will know what you were to them. Some will see you as their Secretary of State, some their mother, wife, sister, aunt, friend…the list goes on." Russel proclaimed. She let out a huff of air. "This job, it's still taking more than I can give." Elizabeth revealed. "Now that's just not true. You're creating things, great things. Systems, treaties, diplomatic relationships that will outlive you." Conrad reassured her.

"And that makes it all worth it? Putting this job sometimes over my family?" She asked, self-consciously. "You're a great mother, Bess. Your kids look up to you. You've done memorable things. Just look at this treaty for an example. The Chinese and The Japanese have both claimed the Islands as their own for generations." Conrad exclaimed. "Your children will tell your story, and they'll tell the story of tonight." Conrad said.


	3. nonstop

Nonstop

He had forgotten what this had felt like. The last time they had been this way was years and years ago. He remembered that dark time in their marriage vividly. They barely spoke, unless they were screaming heated words at one another. Oh god he had vowed to never let this happen again. The time around that life changing decision, the decision for Elizabeth not to go to Baghdad, her decision to quit, god that time had been scary for him. They went days without speaking. And there were times when they shouted, and couldn't stop the fiery, offensive words from tumbling from their lips. But he would take the ruthless yelling over the never ending silence any day. Back then he really didn't know if their marriage would… could survive. They worked very hard to get to the good place they were once in. But lately… lately it seemed they were headed down that dark, lonely path once again.

She had been different since she had arrived home. Those close to her, and even those who weren't, could see that something was wrong. She had thought she had been hiding her emotions well, and she had. Her face was merely blank at most times, not letting a hint of what she was truly feeling show. She had cut herself off; built her walls around her, and they were high. But it was her actions that gave her away. At most times she was on top of everything, never missing a beat. But then there were the mere moments where she would be caught staring off. Times when she was noticed roaming around The State Department, so caught up in her own thoughts she would forget where she was headed. There were times when Henry would wake in the middle of the night to find her stirring, silent tears rolling down her cheeks. And there were times when she would jump at any sudden loud noises. Her kids had caught on; they knew something had happened, but didn't dare ask. Henry knew something was clearly wrong the moment she stepped through their front door. She was changed. Iran had changed her.

Henry had comforted her. Held her in his arms while she cried herself to sleep her first night home. But the next morning, it was like a switch had flipped within her. She didn't accept his touch. She ignored his words, and she absolutely did not want to discuss what she went through. She didn't acknowledge the pain she experienced. Her second night home he was lying in bed reading a book when he noticed his wife had been in the bathroom for a considerably long amount of time. Henry began to worry. He was trying to give her the space she wanted, but he desperately wanted to help her.

He slowly approached the bathroom, but stopped. Through the opening of the slightly cracked door, he could see Elizabeth's face contoured in pain. "Babe?" He questioned, as he pushed the door the remaining way open. She turned suddenly, startled by his voice. The quick movement resulted in a groan, caused by the ache in her back. "Henry." She said almost in a warning tone. She was shirtless, clad only in a bra. She had been trying to treat the wound on her lower back, but was having trouble reaching behind her without pulling on her stitches.

She had hid her injuries from Henry, not wanting him to know. Not wanting him to worry. Not wanting to show any weakness, even in front of her own husband. His eyes landed on the inflamed, angry looking sewn up cut when she turned to retrieve her shirt. His lips parted, shocked that she didn't tell him, scared that she had kept this from him. He watched as she slowly, but as fast as she could handle without hurting herself, pull her t-shirt over her head. "Elizabeth, what the hell happened?" He couldn't stop the words from falling from his lips. He knew the question was rather stupid. He knew what had happened. Well, he knew that she was hurt in Iran.

"I'm okay." She said simply. She turned back to the sink, fiddling with the bandage that should be on her back. He stepped forward, needing to be closer to her. "You're not okay. You're hurt." Henry argued. She didn't respond. She merely stared ahead looking into the mirror. He gently touched her shoulder, attempting to console her, showing his support. But she tensed, straightening up before taking a step backwards away from his touch. "Let me help you." He told her. "I can do it myself." She replied, avoiding his gaze. "Elizabeth… your back looks infected." He protested. "Henry, please." She pleaded, holding a hand up. "Why didn't you tell me?" He blurted out. "This doesn't concern you." She answered. "Babe." He said, hurt. "I just need some space." Lizzie stated before walking past him, out of the bathroom.

She had gone back to work immediately, not missing a single day. Her staff worried about her returning so soon, Blake in particular, but they went on normally. Henry knew the funerals would be hard for her, although she showed no evidence of her anguish. He could have guessed that she blamed herself for the loss of her DS agent. Since she took the oath of office she had come to know Fred Cole fairly well. Inside she had to be devastated.

The next week was quiet. That was the best word he could come up with to describe what was currently going on. They hadn't spoken much. Their conversations were mainly one sided, with Henry attempting to talk to her. Trying to get her to open up. At one point he had made progress, but it seemed they would take one step forward and two steps back. One mention of Iran and she would be completely withdrawn from him once again. Quiet. The word rang through his mind again. Over the past week she was barely home. When she was she would hide away in their home office, doing god knows what. She did try to keep up appearances for their three children. On most days she made it home for dinner, making small talk with the kids. Henry simply studied her during the meal, watching on as she pushed around the food on her plate. After the table was cleared she was off in her own world once again.

He wasn't surprised when he went to sleep without his wife in their bed. She wasn't sleeping much, he knew that. But she had fallen into a routine, usually coming upstairs around one. Henry typically waited up for her, but he was so drained that he unknowingly let his eyes fall shut. His hand slipped to her side of the bed, searching for her. But he was only met with cold sheets. Realizing she wasn't in bed, he opened his eyes and checked the clock. Three thirty four, and she still hadn't come to bed.

He ventured to their office first, expecting to find her sitting working at her desk. He was shocked to find the room empty. The side lamp illuminated the small room just enough. Her laptop was open and on, while a cup of still steaming tea sat on her desk, telling him she was just here. He checked the kitchen, but no luck. That was until he noticed the door to the basement was open.

They never came down here, so he was curious to see what she could be doing wandering around the dusty basement. He found her bent over, rummaging through the boxes littered around her. "Liz." He called. She looked up at the use of her nickname. It only slipped out on rare occasions, typically late at night. His body was tense, concern written on his face. "What are you doing?" He asked confused, voice still hoarse from sleep. Her gaze fell back on the cardboard boxes. "Looking for a report." She answered, beginning again to root through the piles of papers. "Something specific?" He dropped to his knees to help her. "One from back in the CIA." She said nonchalantly. "Aren't those classified?" Henry questioned. "I'm The Secretary of State." She mumbled, too caught up in what she was doing to comprehend what he was asking. "God! I'm never going to find it!" She shouted, throwing down the files in her hands. "It's almost four am, babe. You're exhausted. You need to come to bed." He declared. "I can't." Bess fought. "Elizabeth, you need to rest." He argued. "I need to work." She countered. "You're sleep deprived!" Henry yelled, trying to break through to her. "I'm fine!" Her signature line. "You're not fine. You've been nonstop since Iran. You need to stop and just… be." He told her.

She sighed. "I've been working to secure the peace talks with Iran." Lizzie tried to justify her actions. "That doesn't mean you need to be working through the night." He criticized. "Well god help and forgive me. Is it so bad I wanna build something that's gonna out live me?" She asked her husband. "No." He confessed. "But if you live like this… living in the future and dwelling on the past, you'll miss the present. You're working like you're running out of time, but babe you deserve to live without worrying if tomorrow won't arrive." Henry went on. "How? How do I know that there will be a tomorrow with… with what happened in Iran?" Lizzie looked to Henry, hoping he had an answer. "I guess we don't, but Elizabeth you're doing the best you can. You deserve to be happy. You can't put yourself through this pain every day." He explained.

She was silent. Lizzie glanced at the boxes that surrounded her, before her head fell into her hands. "What am I doing?" She cried. Henry scooted closer to her, wrapping an arm around her middle. After a few moments, she glared up at Henry, tears making their way down her cheeks, and said, "I'm sorry I was such a bitch." He placed a soft kiss on her temple. "Given what you've gone through, I think you get a pass." He joked. "What do I do?" He didn't really understand her question, but he answered anyway. "You take a break. I think it would be a good idea if you talked to someone. And when you're ready you get back to work." He stated. "I can do this right? Go back to The State Department, and be okay?" She wondered, leaning her head against his shoulder. "Public service seems to be calling you." He teased. "Of course you can do this. You've come so far, and already made huge differences in the world since taking your post. I'm very proud of you." Henry looked down at her. "You'll keep fighting. You're nonstop. It's a blessing and a curse, but you won't stop until you're finished. You're making history babe."


	4. Washington on your side

Washington on your side

He didn't like her. Not one bit. He was one of the people who had originally told The President no on making her a part of his Cabinet. She was too reckless; had more balls than half the men in Washington. She was a loose cannon that he had no control over. And that's exactly why he didn't like her. She would listen to her gut, and do what she believed was right. Those were The Presidents chief of staff's thoughts weeks ago when she first took her post. But now, he had come to respect Elizabeth McCord. He even seemed to have grown quite fond of the woman.

As he walked through The State Department, the very rare smile on his face faded into a frown. He noticed her office lights were still flipped on. He had expected she would have gone home by now. He thought he was the one and only person who worked well into the night. His plan was to slip in, leave the file on her desk without her ever knowing he was here, but it seemed that would no longer work.

Her door was open; he could see her sitting there, well slouching, in her chair. For it being almost nearly two in the morning she didn't appear as tired as he felt, having been working since seven am. She seemed to be in deep thought; glasses slipping down her nose as she read something. For her being CIA, he was surprised she hadn't noticed him standing in the doorway yet. He knocked on the door, something he didn't usually do. Her eyes flashed upwards quickly. "Russel." She said, surprise in her tone. "A bit late for you to be here." He told her, stepping further into the room.

"There's always work to be done." She quipped, shutting her planner and removing her glasses from her face. "So it seems." He said simply. "What can I do for you?" She asked, trying to get to the point of the unannounced visit. Lizzie stepped out from behind her desk. "To give you these." He answered, handing her pieces of paper. Elizabeth racks her eyes over numbers, lots of numbers that have no context to them. "What is this?" She questioned before she fell into the couch cushions. "Polls." Russel tells her, sitting down in a chair close to her. "Polls?" She asked not quite understanding.

"Your approval ratings for your first month." He explained further. Her head snaps up. "Really?" She asked taken aback. "Really." He confirmed. She flipped through the papers. "But these… these say seventy five percent." Elizabeth said, more to herself. "Apparently." The chief of staff mumbled. "I never would've thought…" She trails off and laughs excitedly. "Turns out the people like you." He tells her. He watches as she stares down at the file, a small smile she's trying to conceal peeking through. "This is only the first month." He reminded her, ruining her excitement. Her smile fell.

"You have a lot more to do, and trust me you'll have plenty of bumps on the very windy road ahead of you." Russel snickered. "Thanks, Russel." She replies and sarcastically laughs. The chief of staff leans forward and takes it upon himself to pour himself and Elizabeth a glass of scotch. The man could visibly see the tension in her shoulders appear, most likely from his previous comment. He almost feels bad for his less than sensitive words.

"You know…" He begins, but pauses to take a swig of the alcohol. "The President is a big fan of yours. He's impressed with what you've accomplished already." Russel admits. "And?" Lizzie asked. "And?" He questions back, confused what she didn't understand. "I have a feeling there's a but." She explained. "I was simply paying you a compliment. But if you need a but… Stay in your lane Elizabeth." She chuckled at his statement. She leaned forwards, staring him down. "Let me be clear. Conrad and you both knew what you were getting yourselves into when he appointed me. I won't simply step aside as my opinions and stances are overlooked. And although I serve at the pleasure of The President, I won't be pushed around. I'll do what I believe is best for our country, not what looks best on TV screens." She said firmly, standing her ground, before sipping her drink. Russel nodded then said, "I don't expect anything less from you."

Elizabeth blushed. She had lost her temper a bit, but that man needed to be put into place. After a moment of silence, Elizabeth takes another look at the polls in her hand. Truth was she'd been a bit self-conscious from the beginning. This job… It was foreign territory to her. It's been difficult. Not only for her, but also for her family. "You're doing a good job, Bess." Russel reassured her, almost reading her mind. "You think so?" He nodded. "Everyone appears to like you. You've got The President… and me. Plus it seems you have all of Washington on your side." He said, motioning to the polling numbers.


	5. Say no to this & three others

Say No to This _& _We know _& _The Reynolds Pamphlet _ & _Burn

AN: So here is the next chapter of this collection. Before you read I need to put a major warning on this chapter. This is completely AU. I am simply putting Elizabeth in Hamilton's situation. Now while you don't need to know the storyline of Hamilton to understand these drabbles, I greatly encourage you to listen to the songs listed above. I directly took lyrics from the songs (especially 'we know') and I believe it will help you understand the story more clearly. I deeply believe that Elizabeth would never do this to Henry. Their marriage is healthy and loving. This story was very difficult to write and took time (I had to take breaks because it made me a really sad). But the story's purpose is to make you appreciate H and E's relationship on Madam Secretary even more. The writers could have given us a situation like the one I wrote below, but they chose not to, and for that I am forever grateful. Happy reading :) This one's a heavy one, but I promise to get back to something… different than this. Read at your own risk. Please keep your reviews kind!

~Say No to This~

It was mid-June. Typically hot, but the weather seemed to be breaking the pattern. It was unusually pleasant out. Mid-sixties, with a slight breeze. That's how she had found herself walking the streets of DC.

Twenty minutes ago she had concluded a brief discussion with The President over the trade deal she'd been working on. She wanted to keep Conrad in the loop.

Elizabeth made her way through the hallways of The West Wing, pausing once she found herself outside. She was surprised coming to find the air cool. She gazed out over the lawn, taking in the flourishing flowers and the green grass. "Ma'am?" one of her DS agents questioned when she hadn't made a move towards the car. "Change of plans Matt." She muttered.

She knew they weren't happy, with the security risk and all, but she needed the fresh air. She tried to ignore the overly cautious people in front and behind her as she walked along the sidewalk. She sighed running what else she needed to accomplish once arriving back at The State Department. But her mind came up blank. Elizabeth flipped her wrist upwards, checking the time. It was nearing eight. She briefly considered simply heading home instead of working late once again, but the thought came and went. With what was going on at home right now… she wasn't confident she could handle the stress of being in the presence of her husband. Over the past month their only interactions had been heated arguments. She didn't have the energy to yell tonight… so she decided she would throw herself into the stack of paperwork calling her name.

Elizabeth was studying the color changing shy when her phone buzzed. She pulled the device from her pocket and stared down at the screen. A text from Russell Jackson, reminding her of a crucial meeting with an ambassador tomorrow. She rolled her eyes at the chief of staff's very… persistent behavior. Elizabeth still had her head down, not paying attention to what was in front of her, when a 'Madam Secretary' was shouted. She looked up. Her eyes widened seeing an older boy on a bike headed straight for her. She froze, but luckily one of her agents yanked her to the side, out of harm's way. "Are you okay ma'am?" Frank asked, but she didn't respond. She shook her head. "God damn." She mumbled, taken aback.

"There's nothing like summer in the city." A man's voice commented from behind her. She turned, curious. She smiled sheepishly upon recognizing the Congressman. "David!" She exclaimed, surprised and a bit embarrassed.

"Madam Secretary." He teased, poking fun at her title. "Oh quit." She muttered, pulling her friend into a quick hug. "How've you been?" She asked after pulling away.

He sighed and then smiled. "Busy." He answered honestly. "I know how you feel." She agreed. The man's eyebrows rose, amused by something. "Oh is that why you canceled on me last month?" David teased her. Elizabeth opened her mouth trying to find her words, but he held up a hand.

"I understand." He told her seriously. "But, I'm still waiting for that discussion on that trade deal you and Dalton are pushing for." He added. Elizabeth stared down towards her feet, and cracked a smile before looking up again. "Well I'm on my way back to my office. How about we talk over drinks." She suggested. "I'd like that." He replied, smiling.

Their 'talk' on the trade deal seemed to only last merely a few minutes before their conversation drifted to different topics.

"Lizzie I can't believe you still have this." He announced. David refilled both their glasses of whiskey as she plopped down, closer to him than what was deemed appropriate, on the sofa. He sipped from the tumbler as she opened the photo album.

The pictures spanning from 1983 to 1987 brought back so many forgotten memories. "Who knew we'd end up in the same place." She commented, while flipping through the pages. She never would have guessed her friend from boarding school would be working in the same city in nearly the same profession.

Years and years ago they talked about what they wanted to accomplish. This… being Secretary of State and a Senator… wasn't what they originally planned, but c'est la vie. She loved her job, but couldn't help but believe it was taking a toll on her family; more specifically her marriage.

"There." David declared, pointing out the picture that had prompted her to retrieve the scrapbook in the first place. "God look how young we were." She stated. The picture was taken the night of their last December exam senior year. They were in someone's room sitting on the ground. David's arms were wrapped around her; they were both smiling brightly.

She knew he had always been fond of her, but she never let their relationship go beyond a platonic friendship. "I was so happy to have gotten Werner's exam over and done with." David remembered. She scoffed. "Are you kidding? Do you remember how awful Huxel's was?" She asked. "I try to forget." He joked.

Elizabeth turned the page; another picture of the pair appeared. The camera captured David kissing the cheek of a blushing Elizabeth. She could recall the day clearly. She won her debate against Houghton Hall's biggest competitor. "That was sweet of you." She said, talking about the gesture he made almost thirty years ago. "You looked beautiful." David admitted. He paused before adding, "You still are."

She could feel his soft gaze on the side of her face. Elizabeth turned her head slightly to the left. Their eyes met.

She closed her eyes harshly, feeling overwhelmed. The gentle stroke of his thumb on the backside of her hand brought her back to the present. Her eyelids fluttered open to find his face mere inches from hers. His hand moved to cup the side of her cheek as their lips met in a soft kiss.

What started as a simple peck soon grew into much more. She found herself straddling David's lap while his tongue mingled with hers. They pulled back seconds later, in need of air. "We're both married." She whispered against his lips. "I can keep a secret." He mumbled.

The intimacy he was offering was enticing. Although not an excuse, she'd been lonely and had been feeling neglected. The idea of someone wanting her was inviting. 'Say no.' She told herself. But she gazed into his deep blue orbs. His stare lit a fire in her belly. "I don't know how to say no to this." She muttered before grinding her hips down against his. They both moaned at the contact. His lips locked on the side of her neck as she oh so desperately worked to rid him of his shirt.

She wished she could say her encounter with David that night at The State Department was not only the first time but also the last, but their affair became a pastime.

About a month into this endeavor Elizabeth walked into her home office late one night ready to read over a handful of memos Nadine had sent home with The Secretary. She sat down at her desk, which was a disorganized mess. The hardwood top was no longer visible, being as it was littered with files on top of files.

Her eyes ran over the scattered papers, searching for a specific report when her gaze landed on an envelope neatly sitting on top of a stack of papers. She picked it up, curious. The letter was addressed to her, and her alone. Elizabeth's heart sped up seeing the name in the upper left hand corner: Abby Anderson, wife of Senator David Anderson, the man she's been sleeping with.

How the hell did it get here? It was postmarked a few days ago; just delivered today. She flipped the envelope over nervously. Unopened. She let out the breath she'd been holding. One of the kids or god forbid Henry had probably simply set the letter on her desk. But why was it here? She ripped through the paper quickly, pulling out the contents, and began to read.

'_Secretary Elizabeth McCord,_

_ I hope this letter finds you in good health, and that you're still in a position of great wealth. I recently stumbled on a piece of information I wish to god wasn't true, but you see, that was my husband you decided to…'_ "Fuck." She muttered. Her stomach dropped reading the woman's words.

'_I can assure you, you're already in the midst of ripping apart one family. I wouldn't want you to tear apart another… You can keep seeing my husband of course contingent on the fact if the price is right, if not I'm telling your husband.'_

She was furious, but she had no one else to blame but herself. She had made a very stupid decision. Had been acting recklessly. Unfaithfully. And she was going to be forced to deal with the circumstances of her careless actions.

She hid the letter in one of her desk drawers before racing out of the front door.

She knocked insistently on the door until it was finally opened. "Do you know what time it is?" David grumbled, pulling her off the porch and into the foyer.

"How could you!" She screamed into his face, while tears rolled down her cheeks. "What the hell are you talking about?" He asked firmly, confused about her state of panic.

"Was this all just a play for money?" She spit at him. His still blank expression caused her to go on. "The letter from Abby." She added, wanting… needing an explanation. "I don't know about any letter." David tried to convince her. He placed both his hands on her arms, hoping to reassure her.

Elizabeth took a few steps back, away from his touch. She ran a shaking hand over her forehead, not knowing what to do. "This is all my fault." She cried. "Henry… The kids…" She muttered out loud to herself. She took another step towards the door and announced, "I… I need to go."

David followed her to the door, hoping to stop her. "Lizzie, please don't go." He pleaded. She shook her head frantically. "I can't." She fought. "How could I do this?" She mumbled. "Elizabeth." He said, growing closer to her.

"I can't do this anymore." She told him. She turned towards the door, but he grabbed her wrist, pulling her flush against him. His mouth is on hers and she doesn't say no.

A slight cough from behind startles the pair. Abby. David's wife standing a few feet behind, arms crossed over her chest and clad in her pajamas. "Abby." David said quietly but surprised. The woman payed no attention to her husband. She simply glared at Elizabeth. "So?" Abby questioned, referring to the ultimatum she presented in her letter.

Elizabeth broke her stare with the woman only to glance to the left; eyes connecting with David's. "Nobody needs to know." She answered.

~We know~

Four months had passed since that fateful night at The Andersons. Both women had kept up their end of the deal. Money in exchange for silence. As long as Abby received a monthly check of five thousand dollars in the mail she promised to stay quiet.

Two months ago she had opted not to see David anymore, realizing the damage the relationship would cause if ever uncovered. But Henry was never the wiser. Speaking of her husband… They'd been doing better these past few months; really working on resolving the conflicts in their marriage. Elizabeth simply kept the guilt eating away at her to herself, at least for now. But there hadn't been any problems with her stepping out… until there was.

She sat at her desk in The State Department, just ending a conference call with Minister Chen. The hour was nearing ten. By now most of her staff had gone home except the few stragglers. That small handful included her assistant, who always seemed to be here when she was.

Not even a minute later Blake knocked on the door, announcing the presence of Russell Jackson, Craig Sterling, and Teresa Hurst. Russell appearing at her office unannounced was nothing out of the ordinary, but the latter two were a different story. Not to mention the issues she had with the both of them.

She was ultimately the one who had Craig fired. And although he didn't work at The White House currently, that didn't mean he wasn't looking for a job with the next administration. And if she decided to run for the presidency like everyone wanted her to he would never have a job while she was in office. Teresa Hurst was in the same boat. She viewed Elizabeth as a threat to her future career. The woman also knew Conrad would endorse his longtime friend from the CIA over her. She couldn't imagine what the two of them, together she may add, needed.

Elizabeth rose from her chair as the three people made their way into her office. "Madam Vice President. Craig. Russell." She greeted. She noticed the smirks plastered on Craig and Teresa's faces while Russell looked rather worried, something he's usually not. "What is this?" She prompted.

"Bess…" Russell began and sighed. "These two have approached me with a problem… now we just need you to clear a few things up." He spoke. The chief of staff didn't believe what the pair was accusing The Secretary of State of committing; it just wasn't something she'd do, but the evidence was damning. "Okay. What is it?" She replied, crossing her arms over her chest.

"We have the check stubs, from separate accounts. Twenty thousand dollars paid in different amounts." Craig Sterling declared. "To a Mrs. Abby Anderson." Teresa added.

"Is that all you have, are you done?" Elizabeth brushed off.

"You are uniquely situated by virtue of your position." Craig began. "Though virtue is not a word I'd apply to this situation." Teresa joked. Craig went on. "You used your position as Secretary of State to seek financial gain." The man finished.

"Bess, they think you're embezzling our government funds." Russell clarified. Elizabeth looked at him, shocked.

"I can almost see the headline… your career is done." The Vice President commented smugly.

"You don't even know what you're asking me to confess." Elizabeth criticized. "You have nothing. I don't have to tell you anything at all." She argued. She paused for a moment before continuing. "If I can prove that I never broke the law…" She started. Elizabeth looked from face to face, waiting for a reply. "We'll walk out of here without another word." Craig answered.

Elizabeth stepped away from the group and went over to her desk. She thanked god that she had decided to keep the letter, along with the postmarked envelope. She retrieved it from her locked desk drawer, hesitating a moment before handing the paper over to Russell.

"Secretary Elizabeth McCord, I hope this letter finds you in good health, and that you're still in a position of great wealth. I recently stumbled on a piece of information I wish to god wasn't true, but you see, that was my husband you decided to… what?" Russell read, and then looked up at Elizabeth, unbelieving of what was written.

"The reason why I've been paying Abby Anderson five thousand dollars a month, beginning four months ago, is because I had an affair with her husband." She announced, looking down towards the floor. "Her silence in exchange for cash." She explained. "But I kept the records of my checks. You can check them against your list. You'll find that I never spent a cent that wasn't mine. I have done nothing to provoke legal action." She said firmly.

Elizabeth looked up at the group. "My god." Craig said taken aback. Teresa Hurst was smirking while Russell stared at her blankly.

"Russell?" she questioned, needing to hear what he was thinking. She could guess his opinion on the matter would be less harsh since they were now nearing the end of their second term. His head snapped upwards, eyes burning through her. He gave her that look. The look he once gave her when she was new. He was disappointed. "Four years ago I would be furious because I'd be the one cleaning up the mess, but right now… your personal life is none of my damn business."

She believed he of all people would understand, but it seemed she'd been reading the man wrong all these years. "Will you use this against me?" She asked.

"No." Craig answered simply. A deal was a deal. They'd walk out of there; not another word. "But Elizabeth rumors only grow. And we both know what we know." Teresa told her.

The group left her office, leaving their previous conversation behind them. They had the luxury of walking away from the situation. She had to go home to Henry. Go home to Henry and look into his eyes. Smile and pretend nothing was wrong when in reality everything was. And it was all her doing. She couldn't keep this up any longer. She needed to tell the truth.

~The Reynolds Pamphlet~

"Have you read this?" Daisy asked hysterically as she ran into the conference room filled with her coworkers. "What is it?" Nadine questioned, looking over her glasses at the press secretary.

"Elizabeth McCord had a torrid affair and wrote it all down right here." Daisy announced. "What?" Matt said, shocked. Nadine stood from her chair and snatched the paper from Daisy's hands.

"The charge against me is a connection with Abby Anderson for purposes of improper speculation. My real crime is an amorous connection with her husband for a considerable amount of time with her knowing consent. I had frequent meetings with David, most of them at his own house or my office." Daisy read from the article.

"Oh my god." Jay muttered. "Well she's never gonna be President now." Matt declared.

"She just ruined her own life." Daisy said. They were all shocked, not believing that their boss would do this. "Her poor husband." Nadine commented.

~Burn~

She fell back against the front door after closing it, keeping the screaming reporters and flashing cameras away. She thought her day at the office had been bad, but the worst was yet to come. She dreaded the thought of coming home… of facing him.

She swallowed hard and pushed off the door after hearing movement in the kitchen.

He was standing at the sink, simply staring out the window. "Henry." She called. He turned his head slightly to the right, eyeing her up and down before turning back to look ahead again. "Where are the kids?" She asked. "On the way to the farm." He answered. She sucked in a breath and nodded. This was real. This was happening. "Henry I am so…" She began, but her husband whipped around to face her, interrupting her words.

"You couldn't have had the decency to tell me before publishing a statement in the press!" He screamed, waving his hands around.

"I didn't know how to tell you." Elizabeth whispered. She knew it was an awful excuse, but it was the truth.

"Well it doesn't feel so good when this…" He held up a newspaper and then slammed it down against the countertop. "is released when I'm in the middle of a lecture." Henry hissed.

"I didn't mean to humiliate you." She said, a single tear trailing down her cheek. He shook his head unbelieving of her. "If that was the case you would have never slept with another man."

Henry ran a hand over his chin, collecting his thoughts. "I… I guess I did push you away. I just can't believe I was so unavailable to you that you felt the need to seek intimacy from someone else." He admitted sadly. Elizabeth took a step towards him, shaking her head furiously. "No. No this was all my fault, Henry." She told him.

Tears were streaming down her face by now. "What about us… our marriage?" She sobbed. She anxiously awaited his response. His face hardened before his eyes connected with hers. "You let it burn." Elizabeth chocked back a cry. Henry stared at her, tears falling from his eyes, before turning and walking out of the kitchen towards the front door. Leaving her standing there. Alone.


End file.
